Thursday, November 1, 2012

Hard: A Memory

"that's when I saw a light/a glowing paradise/thought i'd stay awhile..."--Alicia Keys


Before I fell in love with television and movies, I wrote mainly short stories and what remains my quietly adored love: poetry. It's been awhile since this and even longer since this, but lately it hasn't stopped.

Tonight I felt another one coming on. Enter at your own risk:


HARD

Hard.
I made you
Hard
the first time you leaned down to kiss me, I was sitting and I could feel you getting and my heart was so
Hard
from the pain of the recent past
I had been broken and humiliated by a dream I got too close to,
a reality I'd imagined but could not handle; I was alone, without a vision for my heart, no hope for the future, sliced open like an oozing wound, ripe for infection.
And there you were,
clean and sterile,
it seemed. I never dreamed it would get so
Hard.
And your bed was too, some transitional, temporary feeling of a temporary situation in your temporary place. It was
Hard
underneath my jeans, my legs. And your body was too-
Hard,
a rock in the middle of my ocean, suddenly something to hold on to. It was in that kiss
just a kiss
clean and good and something new
amidst the old chaos I'd gotten used to.
The insight was impeccable and suddenly I could see,
accept what I had once rejected, and I knew--
we were missing pieces,
no accident,
no chance. It was
Hard
to leave, but I did, and it was
Hard
to forget how good we felt as I went through the days before I saw you again.
And as I peeled back the layers and shattered the glass inside, I saw my reflection in the pieces and it made it
Hard
to pretend. I went for honest, for open, for broke,
planning not to fall but it was too
Hard.
I gave in and gave all--
the good and the bad--
too soon, too much, too often. My heart got so tender but your heart got
Hard.
And it got
Hard
to talk. Then it got
Hard
to touch, then it got
Hard
to even be. I tried, but I tried too
Hard.
I still think of you.
Still spiritually connected to the idea of you, the pregnant promise of us as I got kissed by unintended and touched by unexpected, caressed by coincidental
Undone by Unplanned--
before it got
Hard.
Even as it floats farther from the shore, too far to grasp
I still toss the vacant possibility over in
my head and it's just so
Hard
to imagine.

You.
You made it too
Hard
and I made it too
Easy
And both of us were wrong.


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